


bite hard

by junkeroni (hotdammneron)



Series: love sux [1]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: "polyamory" "negotiations", I do what I want, M/M, Teeth!, Vampires, concerned potential homewrecker jt compher and his two vampire boyfriends, i dont know shit about vampires and i dont want to!, implications of a telepathic threesome which WILL be explored at a later date.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 21:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17495639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotdammneron/pseuds/junkeroni
Summary: it’s Dante’s fault, and Tyson still gives him shit about it, whenever they talk on the phone. Like, ‘hey babe, hope classes are alright, I can’t be on the ice for fights or anything and it’s your fault’. That kind of thing. Normal relationship stuff.So it’s Dante’s fault. Tyson plans to preface the whole thing with that, when he finally gets around to telling JT.





	bite hard

**Author's Note:**

> here's like, a very niche introduction to my dante/tyson/jt vampire fic that im APPARENTLY writing. it's gonna be a wild ride when i actually write more of it, but have some almost-porn stuff for now. tyson jost has little anglerfish teeth.
> 
> my twitter is mollstermash if anyone needs me to explain telepathic threesome logistics in more detail

“Are you fucking teething or something?” JT asks while Tyson’s just chilling, chewing on the string of his hoodie on the couch. He shrugs.

“I get bitey sometimes,” Tyson half explains, because the whole story’s a bit much for friendly conversation, and like. Who’s to say how JT would feel about the whole… situation. So getting weird and bitey will have to do. 

“You’re so weird,” JT says, turning his attention back to the bachelorette reruns Tyson’s making him catch up on. 

He doesn’t even know fucking half of it. 

 

The thing is, it’s all Dante’s fault, just like most things from Tyson’s misguided youth; the Fabbro family ban on most board games, the unspeakable occasion that his mom won’t let him live down, the thumb-holes torn in the wrists of every sweatshirt he had at age fifteen, and like, a thousand shame boners, and, well. 

The whole vampire thing is Dante’s fault to the extremest degree. 

Like, it’s absolutely not chill to bite your best bro and curse him for life with a craving for human blood, right? Tyson’s pretty sure it’s reasonable to have been pissed about that back when it happened. He didn’t talk to Dante for two whole weeks, which did shit for team chemistry, but they worked it out. That’s what they do, they get stupid and then they work shit out in due time. That’s like, tenets of a functional relationship, as far as Tyson’s concerned, but nobody’s ever called him a love expert.

But, the point is, it’s Dante’s fault, and Tyson still gives him shit about it, whenever they talk on the phone. Like, ‘hey babe, hope classes are alright, I can’t be on the ice for fights or anything and it’s your fault’. That kind of thing. Normal relationship stuff.

So it’s Dante’s fault. Tyson plans to preface the whole thing with that, when he finally gets around to telling JT.

 

“Y’know like -” Tyson starts, walking into the kitchen where JT’s chopping some carrots. He spares a brief moment to consider why JT’s chopping carrots before he realizes there are more important topics to be covered here. “Y’know those chew toys they make for babies?”

JT nearly drops the carrot knife onto his hand, which, well. It would be generous to imply that the concept of JT’s hand bleeding doesn’t make his horny bloodthirsty brain a little excited, but that’s the kind of fucked up shit he’s learned to keep to himself. 

“Is this about your weird biting thing?” JT asks, re-gathering his composure, going back to the goddamn carrots. 

“I’m gonna go call Dante,” Tyson tells him, currently seated as the reigning king of the non-answer. It’s an art.

 

“If you buy weird baby chew toys, I’m breaking up with you,” Dante says, his face all pixelated and handsome on Tyson’s phone screen. Tyson pouts about it. 

“I’m just bitey,” Tyson says, trying to justify himself for the third time today alone. “I don’t know. Is that a vampire thing?”

“Freud says it’s a developmental thing,” Dante says, pushing his hand up through his hair, and Tyson’s like, jealous, even if he doesn’t know which side of the equation he wants to be on. 

“I don’t care about what Freud says,” he whines, and he’s sticking the drawstring of his hoodie back between his teeth before he can think about it. “Talk to me about fun stuff, I hate psychology.”

Dante sighs a little bit, and his hand is in his hair again, and Tyson sort of just wants to live in his old sweatshirt and sulk forever about it. 

“You’re so demanding, babe,” Dante says, but he loves Tyson, so he talks to him about vampire stuff anyway. The time his baby cousin turned into a bat at Christmas, the lycan/vampire student union he’s been going to. Dante stuff is comfortable stuff. Tyson can deal with the JT thing later. 

 

So, it comes to a new low when Tyson gets a face full of Nemo’s elbow twice in one game, and his shitty little brain just takes over and tells him to bite. It’s not fun for Tyson, and it’s sure as hell not fun for Nemo, and it’s absolutely bonkers not fun for how much it’s thrown around on instagram and stuff. He leans into it, sure, but. Whatever.

“The biting thing’s really weird,” JT says in the car, snapping Tyson out of his regrettably topical stream of consciousness about biting JT’s neck. 

Tyson, per usual, just kind of pouts about it. 

“I can’t help it, okay? I don’t expect you to get it,” he says, watching JT’s hands as he turns the steering wheel. It’s like, half hot. Maybe two thirds if Tyson’s being horny, which, well. Usually.

JT drops it, for now. 

 

It’s a fucking shock, to say the least, getting back from lunch and having JT sounding all serious about needing to talk, and Tyson’s pretty sure he’s been found out, the ruse is up, whatever it is Scooby Doo villains say when they get caught. And, like, Tyson doesn’t know if it’s a sign of low self esteem to compare oneself to a Scooby Doo villain, but that won’t stop him. It’s not his fault that he has a whole lot of blood-craving in common with cartoon villainous types.

So, yeah, Needing To Talk is a fuckin’ shocker, and it can only get worse from there.

“I’m super into you,” JT says at the exact moment that Tyson mumbles his own confession, and that’s, well. Yeah. 

“I know that it’s probably - wait a goddamn second,” JT continues, wringing his hands in his lap. “You’re. What?”

“I’m a vampire, dude,” Tyson says again, still sort of reeling from everything JT has to say. “Can we get back to you being into me?”

JT stands up, paces around the coffee table a few times before he sits back down. “Are you joking?” 

And, like, what the fuck, why would he joke about that, who pretends to be something they’re not, whatever. So Tyson shakes his head and hopes JT doesn’t ask him to prove it. 

“Can you prove it?” JT asks, because he’s predictable, and Tys just has to roll his eyes and let his canine teeth grow longer until JT finally fucking gets it. 

Tyson runs the tip of his tongue along the little points of his teeth, catching on the backs of his canines where they dip in. Christ, it’s been too long since he’s let himself do this. 

“It’s Dante’s fault,” he says, syllables coming out slurred with the difference in the curvature of his teeth. It’s different usually, he doesn’t need to worry about talking, he can just get his teeth into Dante’s neck and chill out. 

JT blinks, slow, like a vampiric roommate is really too much to adjust to. They’ve lived togetherjust fine until now, it shouldn’t change shit. “Did he - is Dante? Is he a vampire too?” he asks, still just sitting there looking dumb and kinda hot. Tyson nods. 

“Did you mean it when you said you’re into me?” he asks, hissing a little under his breath when one of his canines catches on his chin. 

“I know that’s not - I know it’s stupid, okay?” JT says, tripping over words, and Tyson wants to like, Pixar Inside Out into his thought process sometimes, just to watch those synapses fire or whatever. “I know that you and Dante are together, I don’t want to fuck up our roommate thing, I just. Thought you should know.”

He sounds so sad, fucking devastated, christ, and Tyson just has to sit there while he retracts his pointless (ha ha) teeth to a more practical length. You’d think vampiric evolution would’ve let him do that faster, but, apparently not. 

“Can I kiss you?” Tyson asks, straight to the damn point, because sometimes it’s best to be forward about this kind of thing. And, like, more than anything in the world (except, obviously, having Dante within boning range), Tyson wishes he had a built-in instant camera in his eyes, something like that to capture the pure fucking shock in JT’s eyes at that. 

Maybe it’s a given that JT nods, still looking a little dumb, and maybe it’s a given that Tyson has to cover his teeth with his lips kinda weird when he finally gets their mouths together. He doesn’t have to do that with Dante, so there’s like. A weird learning curve, to kissing somebody who feels physical pain after however many years.

But JT’s mouth is so warm, and he’s fucking radiating heat through his shirt where Tyson’s grabbing at his shoulders. He’s so warm, good lord, he’s like a goddamn furnace, his hands scrambling across Tyson’s thighs and all but dragging him up into his lap. 

It’s just fun, Tyson thinks, letting his fangs out just a little bit, pressing into JT’s lower lip when he tilts his hips up, seeking contact. 

“Are you -” JT asks, so fucking breathless when Tyson breaks away from the kiss to mouth at his jaw. “You and Dante, you’re. Am I a homewrecker?”

Tyson snorts, dignity thrown out the window and replaced with horniness, the feeling of JT’s stubble on his lips. He makes himself pull his face away, however much he wants to just bite, makes himself settle into JT’s lap and have a real adult conversation. 

“We’re in an open relationship, JT,” he says, keeping a hand on JT’s chest. “Or, like, that’s the simplest term for it. It’s like… are you comfortable with threesomes?” 

JT nods again, still looking so flustered that Tyson can’t help but be proud. 

“It’s like - it’s really fucking complicated. It’s like a facetime request, but for a telepathic threesome?” Tyson explains to the best of his mediocre ability, and JT just looks more confused, so he kisses him. “Like, if I’m jacking off, or making out with you, and he wants to like… feel it, I guess, he can. You don’t need to understand it too much, okay?” 

“I’m so confused, but you’re really hot,” JT says, grabbing Tyson’s ass through his sweats, and Tyson can work with that. 

“You’ll understand it eventually,” he mumbles, hoping his teeth are more or less back to flat when he nips at JT’s neck. Can’t go getting too excited on what hardly counts as a first date. 

 

Turns out JT doesn’t have nearly as many complaints about the biting thing when he’s turned on and irrational, and if Tyson’s fangs slip out when JT gets him off, well. That’s between the two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> texts from dante later that night basically consist of: babe thats hot and im glad you worked your shit out but stop going to smashville at 6pm on a wednesday


End file.
